


Absorbed

by Wonderland_Reject



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderland_Reject/pseuds/Wonderland_Reject
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex Smith is a homeless guitar player who ran away from his past life. When a mysterious man says he'll provide a place to stay for entertainment at a party, what has Smith got to loose? ((Aka I'm not good at descriptions))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absorbed

I sold my soul to the city and this guitar. This city is a living thing, and if you're not careful, it'll eat you up alive. That's what happened to me. I left my hometown on bad terms with most people. In all actuality, I don't have a friend left in that place, not my parents, or my high school buddies, no one. I try not to dwell on it. 

Now, I'm here. For the first few months, I lived in a little motel, but money runs out. Now I'm living in a little alley with my guitar and the few changes of clothes I own. It's not the worst way to live, and I definitely prefer it to my home town. 

Today is laundry day. The small coins and dollars people throw in my open guitar case go towards hygiene and food, I may live on the streets, but there's no use looking that way. My clothes were turning in circles when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a short man with brown hair and a scraggly beard. 

“You're that guy who sits on the corner over there, right? Plays guitar?” The short guy asked me. I nodded. “I really like your playing, and I would love it if you would come play for me sometime.”

I frowned and shook my head. Who does this guy think he is? Just barging in here and thinking he can borrow me for my guitar? Although I haven't had human interaction outside of some small thanks and hellos in awhile. And I could use the money…

“How about I sweeten the deal? I can give you a couch to crash on for awhile. Pay for food and some new clothes,” he smiled. 

Oh. That definitely changed things. Food and new clothes? Most of my jeans have worn holes in the knees. I nodded. “Fine. If you're paying for food, fine. What's your name anyways?”

“Oh how rude of me! My names Christopher, but you can call me Chris.”

“I'm Smith,” I said. I didn't want to reveal too much to this stranger offering me food and shelter. In all likelihood, I was probably going to get murdered in my sleep, but if I could get a good meal and a shower, that was fine with me. 

“Just Smith? Nothing more?” Chris asked, smile wide and slightly unsettling. I just nodded. “Well Smith, my apartment is down the road, I'll wait until you finish cleaning your clothes.”

I wish my clothes weren't almost clean. I wish I hadn't just agreed to go to this stranger’s apartment. I wish I didn't have this morbid curiosity to go and see what this man was offering. I wish, I wish…

The washer beeping brought me out of my thoughts. I pulled my clothes out and stuffed them into my rucksack, then looked at Chris. “They're done,” I muttered. 

Chris nodded and gestured to my guitar. “Grab that and let's get going. I'm having a small get together tonight and I would like you to play. I have a suit that should fit you…” he trailed off and looked me up and down. “We’ll see,” he noted. He walked towards the door and looked back at me, and I quickly followed. 

Chris’ apartment was one of the huge studio apartments you only see on TV. It reminded me of the one Rachel and Kurt had on Glee when they moved to New York. It’s entirely improbable and I’m beginning to think I’m in over my head. 

“Do you like it? You’ll be playing over there.” Chris gestured to a small raised bit of the floor that looked a lot like a small stage. 

I scoffed. “You have a stage in your house? Do you have parties often?” 

“Only on Fridays,” he winked. He walked over to the couch and sat down. “You can put your stuff down and sit. If you'd like to take a nap or something, feel free. I don't want you passing out in front of my guests.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on the couch. This Chris guy was a weird fellow. I could rob his house or something and just leave. Why did he trust me? Did he have something to hold against me? I eyed him up for a minute before speaking. “Do you have a shower?”

Chris nodded and gestured to an area with a bed, and a door to the right of the bed. “That's the bathroom. I'll lay the suit out for when you finish. You can use anything you need in there.”

I walked quickly towards the bathroom without another word. I slammed the door and locked it, then took in my surroundings. I am definitely in over my head. The bathroom was like something out of a retro movie, all black and white tiles and popping colors. It didn't match the rest of the house whatsoever, but it somehow worked. 

The shower was like another world. It was large and had shower heads everywhere. I undressed and hopped in. I turned it on and immediately got sprayed in the face with freezing cold water. At least I know I'm not dreaming now. 

The shower was an abrupt affair, and soon I was wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I peeked out the steamy bathroom to look for Chris, who wasn't there. I ran out and hastily dressed in the suit. The tie was a struggle and I decided to just leave it hanging around my neck until I could get some help. 

Walking out of the bedroom revealed a whole new room from the one I was in only a few minutes ago. The room was dark and pulsing with colored lights, and there was a bar spilling over with various alcoholic beverages. I found Chris lounging on the stage, strumming on my guitar. 

“Look at you mister street rat, you clean up nicely,” Chris winked. “You've got your tie on wrong though.”

I shook my head as he got up and gently set my guitar down. He fixed the tie with the expertise of a professional and smiled at me. “There we go, now you're ready to play at a real city party. I'm going to introduce you to a few people I think may be able to get you some gigs. My friend Sips owns a club downtown that's always looking for new acts, or maybe Lewis can even hook you up with a record deal. Stick with me Smith, I'll make you go places.” 

I began to think over Chris’ words, but I was jerked out of my revise with a hand on my shoulder. “Sit down, relax. Why don't you start going over some songs? I'll grab a mic. I may have you switch over to an electric acoustic depending on how loud you play, but we’ll see.” 

And I did what he said, I sat, and I started playing. He did have me switch over to a nice electric acoustic after only a few minutes. The first guest arrived after only my second warm up and mic check. 

“Ross!” Chris squealed, which was quite uncharacteristic of the man from what I've seen up to this point, but who am I to judge. The aforementioned Ross walked through the door in a casual jaunt. 

He was tall with broad shoulders and a happy, animated face. He pulled Chris into a hug, then gestured to me. “I'm gone a week and you've already replaced me?”

“No, this is Smith, he's the entertainment for the night.”

“Oh? Why’s he in my old suit?” Of course the suit was this man’s, it wasn't Chris’, he's much too short. It was a nice suit, I just hoped he wouldn't make me change, judging by the other’s clothes, it wasn't a casual dress sort of party. 

“You don't wear it any more, and he looks so handsome in it!” Chris warbled happily. He looked at me like a small child would a lost puppy, a sort of remorseful yet delighted expression. 

“It does look nice on him. He can keep it, I don't really care,” Ross shrugged. I smiled at him as he looked me up and down. Why do I feel like I need to make a good impression on these people? It has to be something to do with the prospect of success that Chris promised, right?

“Why'd you stop playing? Go on Smith, play for Ross,” Chris said, gesturing vaguely to the guitar. 

I picked the thing up and went back to playing softly. They conversed happily and lounged on the couch, only paying attention every few songs. After a while, more people showed up, and soon the whole front room was filled with bodies. Tons and tons of people filled the space. I thought I recognized a few faces, but weather that was from them passing me by on the street or my recognition came from the shoddy television in the laundromat was beyond me. The people certainly looked like movie stars. 

After I began looping songs, Chris walked up to me with a tall, balding man at his side. His face was young, but his receding hairline would say otherwise. “This is Sips, he’s the guy that owns the club,” Chris warbled. “He’s been listening to you and he would love to have you play there sometime!”

Sips agreed with a small nod and held his hand out for me to shake, which I did. “It would be wonderful if you could make it out to the club sometime, we’re always looking for acts like yours. With Chris here as your manager, you're going to go places.”

I looked back at Sips in a happy sort of shock, then over to Chris, who nodded. “I've employed myself as your manager, if that's alright with you.”

I agreed quickly, and they walked away. It was only a short song later that Ross walked up to me. “Hey Smith! Lovely party hm?” He asked me. 

“It's pretty great, yeah,” I agreed evenly. 

“How about you let me take over the entertainment? Go enjoy the party, I've already talked to Chris, so don't worry about him. Go on,” he said, taking my guitar and shooing me away. 

“Thank you,” I muttered before walking into the middle of the room. I stood around awkwardly for a moment, then noticed the snack table and made a beeline for it. I began to gorge myself on Doritos and Cheese Balls, before I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a small girl with a glint in her eye and a happy disposition. 

“You must be this Smith guy Chris is bragging about! It's nice to meet you!” She chortled. I nodded and looked a bit closer at her. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that half of her body was covered in tattoos, and she seemed much older then at first glance. “You play great! I just have to tell you, you should probably leave now. Chris isn't…as sweet as he seems,” she frowned, and her voice dropped to a whisper towards the end of her sentence. 

Before I could ask what she meant, she was off. As I lost sight of her in the crowd, the music began loudly and the mostly peaceful atmosphere almost immediately switched over to that of a club. The lights seemed to pulse more violently, and jackets were thrown off into a corner, the mostly untouched alcohol table was swarmed with people. I was in stunned silence. I noticed a few people leaving, and a few more people coming in. This seemed like a normal occurrence. 

I turned away from the snack table and tried to go towards a corner of the room, away from the throng of people now occupying the apartment’s living room. The apartment was large and open though, so there wasn't much place to go. I slowly tried to dance towards the bedroom, where it was hopefully more tame, but I was pulled into the middle of things by an unknown hand.

When I was finally released, I looked up to see a tall man wearing all black, with some sort of black medical mask covering his face. “I'm Rythian! You played nicely!” He yelled over the music. As he talked he swayed to the infectious music, and I found myself doing the same. 

“What's with the mask?” I yelled. 

I guess it was sort of a rude thing to ask, but he just laughed at me. “It's a fashion statement!” He yelled back. 

We swayed for the rest of the song before a slower song came on, and he pulled me closer to him. “Listen to me,” he whispered, “you have you get out of here. Chris is not the person you think he is, he will use you until there is nothing left,” he muttered into my ear. I could hear the ruffling of his mask, and his words were barely audible because of it. 

“What do you…what?” I asked, loudly. 

He growled. It was almost inhuman in its harshness and I almost flinched. He spun me around so his front was pressed against my back, and he leaned in to speak to me. “Just leave now. Go far far away. I've seen so many people get dragged in here, then just…poof. They disappear from reality and live their days here, then they just go. My best friend got sucked into here, now she's gone. No one sees Ross anymore, only at these parties.”

“What are you talking about? He was gone when I got here, he said he had been somewhere for a few weeks? Why do people keep warning me?” I asked, slightly frantically. My voice was raised, and people turned around and gave us strange looks. 

Rythain huffed and the breath rustled my hair. He held me closer and whispered again, “just get out of here. I don't want to watch someone else get pulled away from reality. Not again.” Then he pushed me away and got lost in the crowd. Strange. All these people are so strange. 

I went back to working my way towards the bedroom. A few people brushed against me and groped me in places that shouldn't be touched by strangers, and I finally made it to the bedroom. It was open to the living room, like the rest of the apartment, but there was a considerably smaller amount of people here. I plopped down on the bed next to a large blond man, who turned around and smiled a manic smile at me.

“You! You're that guy! How about you come home with me?” The blond asked. His large, psychotic smile still stretching his face wide. 

“Excuse me?” I frowned. I slid a bit further away from the man and crossed my arms. 

“Oh no not like that! My friend Kim said she talked to you earlier? Chris shouldn't be trusted, and we’d like to help.”

“I think I'll be fine, I just…thank you?” I stumbled over my words and stood up quickly. I wobbled from standing up too fast and stumbled into someone.

I turned around quickly to see Chris standing there, smiling. My vision swam, the pulsing lights and sounds confused me. The shorter man set a hand on my arm and gestured over to the blond man on the bed. “Is Duncan bothering you? Really Dunc, how many times do I have to tell you to behave?” Chris said jokingly. “Come on Smith, you should go have some fun,” he purred as he pulled me away. 

The two of us made our way to the middle on the crowd of dancing people, and just as we stopped, the base dropped in the song and the pulsing beat and dancing people intensified. “Have fun! The party will be over soon!” Chris yelled over the noise, then sauntered away. 

I was soon lost in the pulse of the music, and swept into dances with strangers. I lost track of time, it seemed to slip away. The crowd thinned slowly, and the last few people left at sunrise. I was exhausted when only Chris, Ross, and I were left in the trashed apartment. 

“Smith, you can go crash on the bed, the cleaner will be here soon,” Chris chirped out. I had no idea how he still had so much energy. I agreed and slugged my way to the bed. As soon as my body hit the cushiony surface, I was out. 

I woke up much later to the smell of bacon and the warm presence of a body next to me. My eyes flew open and I flailed my way off of the bed. I fell with a loud thump and I saw Chris’ smiling face look over the side. “What? You thought I was giving you my bed?” He laughed. 

I stuttered and fumbled over my words, then finally muttered out a small no. He just laughed at me. 

“Breakfast! Come and get it!” Ross’ deep voice called. I got up slowly and waddled over to him. “Good morning sunshine,” he smirked. He handed me a large plate piled with eggs and bacon and toast. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I sat at the table and dug into the food. It was nice to get served something without having to fight for it or get strange stares. I could definitely get used to this. 

“Chris! I'm off! Take good care of Smith, okay?” Ross’ hand fell on my shoulder and he gave it a light squeeze. “Good luck with your career, I'll see you again someday,” he nodded. 

“Where are you going?” I frowned. See you again someday? What does he mean?

“Somewhere. Everyone's got to go somewhere, sometime, you’ll go there too eventually. Bye Smith,” he nodded. The tall man walked over to the door, grabbed his coat, and left. That was it. He was gone. 

“Don't listen to him and his poetic justice, he'll be back next week for the party,” Chris laughed. He came into the kitchen for the first time that morning in baggy pajama pants and messy hair. He yawned and sat across from me. “How are you this morning?”

“I'm…frazzled? I guess. I'm not really sure,” I shrugged. 

“Yeah, parties can be a bit overwhelming here. You'll get used to it in time, don't worry.”

I nodded and went back to my food. I really didn't know what to think. I definitely didn't trust this Chris guy at all, but I also had nowhere else to go. Maybe I could make a life for myself. 

Or maybe all those people are right, maybe I'll never come back. 

\----

Six months was all it took. Christopher had taken the poor kid in, and used him up. Smith was a husk of what the energetic man had once been, and Rythain wished the man had listened to him and his friends. 

They all still saw him at parties, or sometimes, on rare occasions, performing at the club Sips owned, but he had changed. He was no longer the wide eyed man with a guitar they had met at that first party, now he was a robot. He saw it happen to Zoey, he saw it happen to Ross, and now this one. 

After a year, they didn't see Smith at parties any more, or the club. There were rumors about what happened to him, just like Zoey, but no one knew for sure. Someone said he moved to a tropical island to get away from the city. Someone said he married some girl and they bought a home in the suburbs. Someone else said he would turn up in a dumpster in a few weeks, dead from an overdose or something. 

Rythain believed the last one. He had seen it happen to Zoey, and then Ross. Why would Smith be any different? But then again, he didn't know.


End file.
